That Girl From 12
by tiamat100
Summary: "Gale?" Prim said, her voice shaky. "Do you promise...If I got to be tribute...you wouldn't let Katniss volunteer?" Gale, thinking wryly of the one slip amongst thousands, nodded. AU Katniss doesn't volunteer and Prim fights in the Games.
1. Chapter 1

"Primrose Everdeen."

Prim felt the colour drain from her face. Her worst nightmare was coming true. Shakily, petrified, she began moving towards the stage. She had no idea how she did it.  
"Prim!" She heard Katniss' stangled cry and for a second panicked. Katniss wouldn't volunteer, would she? "Prim!"  
Prim looked back, just for a moment, as Katniss yelled "I v-" ut Gale's hand slapped over her mouth, and Prim's mother was screaming her name too, and amongst it all no-one heard Katniss' aborted attempt.  
Prim wanted to apologise, to hug Katniss, to never let go, but she couldn't. She imagined what Katniss would do in her place and she straightened. The tears on her face fell anyway, but she kept herself firm.  
She walked up without stumbling, trying to seem a thousand times less scared than she was. Effie gave her that smile and continued in the accent that Katniss never stopped mocking.

Prim couldn't see Katniss anymore. She didn't know what gale did to keep Katniss quiet when they asked for volunteers, but she wasn't sure if she was grateful or not. It was what she'd asked for, after one of her nightmares. She'd dreamt of getting chosen and Katniss taking her place, and she'd begged Gale not to let Katniss do it.  
Neither Gale or Katniss had really thought there was any possibility of Prim being chosen. She felt completely numb. One slip, she kept thinking. One slip among thousands.  
She forced herself to look up as the male tribute was chosen. He was much older, about Katniss' age. The baker's son, she thought. He was looking at her as if he recognised her.  
He swallowed. They shook hands, her tiny hand dwarfed by his. For some reason, Peeta – that was his name, she remembered now- didn't frighten her. He seemed more gentle, despite the fact that she was sure he did wrestling or some such thing.  
She couldn't see Katniss anymore, lost among the crowd of people, so she fixated on her mother. She saluted them, using an old salute Katniss used. They were meant to applaud.  
She exchanged a shocked glance with the boy tribute when they saluted her back, refusing to applaud as she and Peeta were paraded off the stage.  
In the tribute building, Prim tried to compose herself. She was going to die. She was going to die in the games, probably at the Cornucopia. She always looked away from the screen at the bloodbath, too squeamish to want to watch other children murdered.  
Now she was going to have to live it. She hoped Katniss would take care of Buttercup and Lady. And their mother. She still hadn't forgiven her for giving up when their dad died.

She'd tried to compose herself, but the instant Katniss walked through the door Prim was in her arms.  
"I'm so sorry, prim, I tried to volunteer, gale knocked me out, I'm sorry, I love you." Prim was shocked. Katniss never cried, and yet tears were falling down her face now. Their mother enveloped Prim in a hug too.  
Katniss drew away, wiping her eyes.  
"Don't try and do anything at the Cornucopia. Leave, and hide. You're quick. You know how to find herbs to eat. Try to hide. I know you wouldn't…wouldn't want to –k-kill but maybe you could survive just by hiding. Just keep hidden. You're good with medicinal plants and things, too, you can hide."  
Prim nodded, allowing her sister to pretend that she thought there was a chance. She didn't know what else to say. She hugged Katniss close.  
"I love you Katniss. Take care of Buttercup and Lady for me? And mom?"  
Katniss glanced at their mother as Prim whispered in her ear, but nodded.  
"I promise."

All too soon, they were forced to leave. Katniss had to be physically prised off her.  
Then Prim was left alone. The next visits confused her. The Baker of all people visited, handing over a bag of cookies and promising he'd try to take care of her family. Why? Wasn't she being sent into an arena in which his son was her mortal enemy?

Then she got it. He felt guilty, because he knew Peeta had more of a chance than her. She accepted the cookies as graciously as possible, even surprising the baker with a hug. He looked as if he was trying hard not to cry when he left.  
The next visitor was Gale and his brothers. Prim could barely bring herself to say anything other than thanking him for stopping Katniss. Gale just nodded. He looked more tired than she had ever seen him.  
"She'll never forgive me." He said, sounding as if the words were difficult. "Take care of yourself, Prim, okay?"  
She nodded, and squeezed Gale's hand. "She'll forgive you eventually. You're all she has now." Prim couldn't stop her voice from shaking. Neither of them knew what else to say, so that was when she was left alone.

All too soon, there were no more visitors. It was time to start heading for the Capitol.

**A/N – So, this is the first fanfiction I've written in a while. I haven't read any Hunger Games fics in a while either, so I have no idea if this has been done before. Still, I decided to try it. So here you go. Also, if you have any better suggestions for the title that would be awesome. I had none. **

**-tiamat100**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Prim had never been on a train before. She knew about them, of course, but they still seemed amazing. She remembered being told that they travelled at something like 250 miles an hour. Everywhere within the district could be reached on foot, so why would she need anything else?

As they were getting on the train, Prim realised the cameras were pointing. Peeta was crying unashamedly and Prim was sure her eyes were red and puffy too, but she tried to smile and wave at the cameras. It was a kind of goodbye to Katniss and her mother.

The train was far more extravagant than Prim could ever have imagined. They were so careless in the Capitol. She'd seen her mother and Katniss boil water so many times, but for those in the Capitol it appeared on demand. It seemed wrong to Prim. How could they deserve everything? Wasn't the hard work and the Hunger Games punishment enough for the Districts? Shouldn't they be given a few luxuries too?

But then, luxuries would be expensive, and there was no way anyone in the Seam could afford them. Just surviving felt like a luxury sometimes. Prim couldn't help releasing a tiny gasp when she opened one of the drawers, though. Beautiful, fine, elegant clothes that were made of a material none of them could have afforded. Prim had barely been able to pay attention as Effie had told her she could use everything, but now she wondered how true it could be. She had all this luxury at her disposal?  
Then she remembered. Gale would've said that it was the Capitol trying to salve their tiny consciences, treating the poor District folk to such luxury. Perhaps to them, it compensated for the horrors the tributes would have to experience in the Arena.  
There were some practical outfits that she was sure Katniss would have preferred, but she paused, her fingers stroking a silken gown. Could she wear such an elegant outfit?  
She was going to die in a few days. Wasn't that an excuse, if she wanted to, to enjoy her last few days as much as she could?

She donned the beautiful dress. She couldn't help but wonder briefly how they were in the correct size. Had some Capitol servant run here to fill them while she was in the Justice Building?  
Prim didn't want to sit down, she didn't want to let herself think. There was a small window, and she couldn't resist gazing through it. The speed at which the landscape was rushing past made her draw her breath in, a moment of awe.

In just a short while, Effie Trinket appeared to show Prim to dinner. She tried not to react too obviously to the furniture that they could never, ever hope to afford. Did all people in the Capitol live like this? Somehow the knowledge that they lived in luxury hadn't quite translated into this in her mind.  
It took all her restraint not to let her jaw drop down at the sight of the food. It seemed like the table held more food than Prim had eaten in her entire life! She couldn't resist it. If there had been any Katniss, she would've chosen them, but apparently they weren't rich enough fare for the Capitol. Prim wasn't used to huge amounts of food, but she couldn't help but eat more and more. Then dessert- a rich, sweet chocolate cake, the likes of which Prim had never imagined. It was like a dream, except she knew that it would have a horrifying conclusion. She couldn't stop glancing at where Haymitch should've been. He scared her. He was constantly drunk, and the haphazard way that he conducted himself scared her. Once she'd gone to the Hob and he'd grabbed hold of her as he nearly fell over. It had taken a lot of willpower not to scream. She hoped that he didn't remember that, but how could he? He wasn't exactly in full control of himself at the time.  
There was one thing that Effie Trinket said that angered Prim. Most of it she excused, reminding herself through gritted teeth that Effie lived in a different world. But when she accused the two kids last year of eating like "savages"…Prim had known, vaguely, one of them. She was the older sister of a girl who always came to school hungry and never had any lunch. She was always skinny and tired looking. She couldn't believe that Effie could speak like that about two kids who were both dead and who had never eaten properly in their lives, while she had meals like this on a regular basis?

Prim didn't want to eat after that comment. It was the first time she really spoke up. She looked at Effie and forced herself to speak.  
"They never used to have any food." Her voice was a tiny squeak, which she hated, but at least she was doing something. "They probably never had enough money for cutlery, either."

She wasn't sure, but she thought Peeta might have shot her a small, surprised smile.

She was starting to feel sick by that point. She'd tried to be careful, but she'd eaten more than she'd ever eaten before and all of it was rich, filled with spices and probably designed by some cook who was celebrated in the Capitol. She breathed in deeply. She didn't throw up when she saw gory mine accident victims. She didn't throw up eating the strange concoctions that Katniss sometimes brought home. She could do this.  
She closed her eyes, trying to swallow down her urge to throw up. She could do this.  
They moved into another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings. Prim looked at them and wondered who would be the victor.  
The Volunteers were likely to win, because who would volunteer other than a Career? Except Katniss, she thought, but she pushed that thought away. Katniss was safe, and it was Prim who'd be fighting for her life in just a few days.  
Prim noticed a few people in particular. A boy with an injured foot. She wondered if she'd be able to heal it if she had the right medicine. Probably not- it looked like the type of thing that required Capitol surgery. How could they put a boy who had such difficulty even walking in the Games? He probably had even less of a chance of survival than her.

Then it switched from 10 to 11, and she felt herself trembling as a girl her own age was chosen. Rue. She fixed the name in her head. She blinked away the tears. Why did they have to dieso young? No one their age would ever have a chance of survival.  
Prim looked away as they showed District 12, but then suddenly turned back, searching for Katniss' face in the crowd. She found her mother and Katniss quickly, saw Gale knock Katniss out to keep her from volunterring- the violence made her wince- and then she closed her eyes.  
She'd never see her sister again. She didn't want to cry in front of Effie and Peeta, but she was no Katniss. She wasn't strong enough to always hide her emotions from everyone else.  
She wished she were like Katniss.  
Surprisingly, Effie Trinket began moving towards me to comfort me.  
Even more surprisingly, Peeta got there first. He put his arm around me awkwardly.  
"It's okay, Prim. Maybe you'll win. Maybe you'll get to go back." She could hear the doubt in his voice, but at the same time it was comforting.

Prim didn't know how to react, but that was when Haymitch staggered in. Prim stared at him in shock as he slurred "I miss dinner?" and vomited. Effie just made a disgusted noise and left him.  
Pim and Peeta loked at each other for a moment. Then Prim dropped down, trying not to let the smell make her vomit too. She was a healer wasn't she? It was right to try and help him. Peeta leant down beside her and helped her pull him up.  
"I tripped?" Haymitch said. He sounded as if he had no idea what had just happened. "Smells bad." He smeared his face with vomit as he wiped his nose, and Prim resisted the urge to run. She never normally felt like this with patients, but Haymitch had always scared her and his drunkenness was going to kill her.  
"Let's get you back to your room." Peeta said, glancing at Prim. "Clean you up a bit." He looked warily at Prim's small stature and she could tell he was taking the vast majority of Haymitch's weight on himself as they walked.  
They carefully took him into the shower, and peeta smiled weakly at Prim.  
"I'll take it from here." But she shook her head.

"I work with my mother in the shop. I know how to help. I'm a healer." And she forced herself to smile back. Peeta didn't protest. Together, they helped Haymitch out of his vomit sodden clothes and led him back under the shower, supporting him. Then they half carried him over to the bed.  
his eyes fixed on Prim just before they closed and he reached out for her hand.

"Thankkks…" He slurred, dropping into sleep. Prim didn't want to look at Peeta. She forced herself to, though, nodding at him.  
"Goodnight, Peeta." She smiled and left the room. He paused a moment before following her, shaking his head. He was going to be in a battle to the death with her in a few days, and she was the sister of Katniss. _Katniss! _He felt like crying. Why hadn't he told her years ago? She was probably in love with Gale anyway…  
He shook his head again. You're worrying about your non-existent love life when you're about to die in the Games? He asked himself, before exiting the room. Prim was nowhere in sight.

He could remember the first time he'd had any direct contact with Katniss- when he'd tossed her the bread. After that, she'd seemed able to take care of herself. He wished briefly that he could have the chance to tell her his feelings.

He went straight back to his compartment and tried to sleep in the luxurious Capitol bed. Thoughts of Katniss raced through his mind, and they wouldn't leave for hours, when he fell into a fitful sleep.

**A/N I intended this to be longer, but I didn't want to take any longer to update, so here it is- Chapter Two. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N- Finally, chapter 3. I'm really sorry. I know it's been months since I last updated. I've had a bad summer, and most days I haven't been able to face writing. Hopefully you'll forgive me and continue reading this! I will try to update more frequently, but I can't promise. I've just started at a new school and the homework schedule is tough...anyway, enjoy! Also, I've changed it into present tense because I find it easier to write in.**

Prim can't sleep that night. The bed she is sleeping in is warm and just as luxurious as everything else on the train, but the decadence and comfort aren't enough to help her rest. The same images keep circling in her mind: her mother, Katniss, her friends from school, that boy from 10 with the injured leg, the girl her age from 11, Lady, Buttercup. She wonders what will happen to Katniss. Katniss could take care of herself, Prim knows that. After all, it was Katniss who had been taking care of Prim ever since their father died. Despite that, Prim can't help worrying. Katniss would, out of a sense of duty to her and to their mother, continue hunting and eating, but that wasn't the same as really living. At least Katniss had never known the other tribute from 12, Prim reassures herself. If Gale had been chosen it would have been a thousand times worse.

Trying to comfort herself and shoving from her mind the thought of the bloodbaths from previous Games, Prim eventually drifts off to sleep. She sleeps fitfully, waking more than once from nightmares where she sees scenes from previous Games, but as a participant. One moment she is on the ground, dead, and the next she is attacking one of her fellow tributes. The nightmares don't stop all night, until she is woken from one by Effie's piercing voice.

"Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!"

Blinking back the exhaustion that somehow seems only to have increased over the night, Prim sits up in bed. For just the briefest of seconds she can't quite remember the events of the day before, but then they come pounding back in full force. She walks to the dresser and dresses herself quickly, too tired to care about making the most of the luxury this time. She wears a small sun dress, it's bright colours in sharp contrast to her mood.

She swallows as she thinks of Katniss. What a difference between Katniss' warmth and sisterly greetings and Effie's shrill call. She leaves her hair loose, merely combing it through with her fingers as she walked.  
Prim enters the dining car slowly, trying not to show the fear and anxiety that still has control of her body. Trying to tell herself that she will be safe until she reaches the Capitol hasn't really helped. Effie seems to be in a hideous mood, muttering words that Prim never repeated even when Katniss did. The one time she had, Katniss had looked so shocked that Prim had decided to never let that look appear on her face. Haymitch waves her over.

"Sit down, sit down!" she did. The second she is seated an enormous platter of food is placed in front of her. She looks at it in surprise. It can't be all for her, surely? Even Katniss couldn't have put together a feast like this!

There is a juice that is orange in colour. Prim can't think what it is for a second. Then it dawns on her that it might be juice made out of oranges. Katniss had told her that they'd all had an orange once as a treat before their father died, but she can't really remember it.  
She wonders what it might taste like.

There's a cup of coffee. Prim wishes for a moment that she could take it back to her mother, who would love it. Then she sees something else. It smells delicious, but she has no idea what it is.  
"Hot chocolate." Peeta says, nodding towards it. "It's good."  
Prim takes a small sip and almost chokes on the froth. It's the sweetest thing she's ever tasted. It's creamy and tastes- it just tastes wonderful. She thinks for a second that she'd do anything to be able to taste that everyday, until she remembers why she's able to taste it in the first place.  
Shuddering, she can't make herself eat another mouthful.

Peeta is the first to notice.  
"What's wrong?" He asks, and Haymitch and Effie turn to her. "You need to eat something."

She shakes her head, tears in her eyes for a moment.  
"I can't." She whispers. "I can't."  
Peeta frowns. "You have to. Please, Prim."  
She wonders for the first time whether everyone in the district that she's never met calls her Prim rather than Primrose.

She shakes her head again, her hand clasping the table.  
"I can't. We're going out there to d-d-die and my sister is at home and she'll be so worried and I won't ever come back. I can't eat, I can't, my family are at home with nothing and Katniss will be too upset to-"

Peeta interrupts, just in time to prevent her from admitting that Katniss hunts.  
"Your sister will take care of herself and your mother. She always does. But she'd want you to take care of yourself, too." His eyes never leave hers and for a moment she wonders if he's right, but the sick feeling stays in her stomach and she shakes her head.  
"I'm sorry." She can't make herself do it.  
Haymitch makes a sound of disgust. "You're already giving up." He takes another swig. "Sweetheart, we all know you're never going to win, so why not make the best of it?"

Prim is surprised to see the hardness that appears in Peeta's eyes.

"You won." He says, quietly and coldly. "You can teach us how to survive."  
Haymitch chuckles.  
"Here's some advice. Stay alive." And he falls into bursts of laughter. Prim is crying more now, shaking as she realises that she truly doesn't have a prayer of surviving this.

Peeta is shaking too, but not from tears.

"That's very funny." he says, and he lashes out at the glass that Haymitch is holding. It shatters in pieces, and the wine flows over the floor.

"Only not to us. Not to our families." Peeta stares at Haymitch, and Prim wonders what else this baker's son is capable of. Haymitch mantains the glare for only a second before throwing a punch towards Peeta's face. Prim doesn't know why she reacts, but she leaps out of her chair and onto Haymitch, pulling him away from the spirits that he's reaching for with a strength that surprises her. He breaks free, and she pushes the bottles that he's reaching for away, moving quicker than he came in his inebriated state. Peeta starts to sit up and Prim reaches for some ice, passing it to him. His eyes thank her as he raises it to his cheek.

"No." says Haymitch. "Let it show. The audience will think you've mixed it up with another tribute before you even made it to the arena."  
Prim doesn't even pay attention to Peeta's reply. She is too busy staring at Haymitch. How had she managed to leap on him like that? She'd never done anything like that. It almost scares her for a moment. She only just realises in time that he is speaking to her.  
"Can you attack anyone besides me?" Prim looks up, confused. Her eyes glance to Peeta for a moment and she shrugs. She decides to answer honestly, even if it makes Haymitch give up on helping her completely.  
"I can help heal. I can identify plants, I can run, and I have practice restraining patients. I've never tried to actually fight anyone before." He nods.  
"Well, you're stronger than you look." He mutters, so Prim can barely hear him. Then he raises his head.

"Stand over here. Both of you."  
They obey, moving quickly with only a slightly confused glance at each other. Haymitch circles them. Prim tries not to look as she feels- like he's a predator, waiting to leap.  
He circles them silently for a few moments, and she's sure he's finding faults with her small, slight body.  
"Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you'll" he nods at Peeta "Be attractive enough. Prim's too young for that. They'll make you look cute, vulnerable, and your best bet is to prove them wrong."

She nods, wondering if Katniss would do better. After all, who will sponsor a child who has almost no chance of winning? Nevertheless, she's glad she's the one in the Games instead of Katniss.

"Alright, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking," He sends a glare in Prim's direction. "and I'll stay sober enough to help you. But you have to do exactly as I say."

They nod. After all, Prim thinks, it's not as if they have a choice. Both of them need whatever help they can get.

" In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist," says Haymitch.

Prim swallows nervously She's seen some Tributes sent out naked, and she really doesn't want that. She agrees, though.  
Peeta doesn't. He glances at her. "But-"

"No buts. Don't resist," says Haymitch.

He doesn't say any more, but Prim has the idea that he was protesting for her benefit instead of his own. Almost as if he wanted to protect her.  
Haymitch exits, taking some alcohol with him. Prim doesn't know what to say to Peeta. In just a few days they'll be trying to kill each other. She looks outside to see pitch black. Clearly they're in the tunnels, approaching the Capitol.

The silence between them seems to build, becoming more and more awkward. Prim fiddles with her hands, feeling uncomfortable. She's not particularly shy, just a bit timid, but what do you say to a boy several years older than you who will be trying to kill you in just days?

As soon as bright light appears once more, Prim rushes to the window, wanting to escape the awkwardness and see the Capitol, for the first and only time. Peeta follows her. People begin to point and smile and even wave, and before she thinks about it Prim waves back, trying to smile. Then she realises.

_They know we're tributes._ It's like they're celebrities who are condemned to die. Why are they so excited to see her if they only plan to watch her die?  
She's tempted to turn away, to stop waving, but Peeta is still waving and so she does too.

"Why are we waving?" She whispers, looking for some kind of consolation that waving to her would-be executioners isn't as wrong as it seems.  
He shrugs. "One of them might be rich."  
Struck by the coldness of this, Prim steps back. Peeta pushes her back to the window again.  
"Wave." He orders. "Wave and smile. Make them like you."

Bemused and slightly scared, Prim does as he suggests. The crowd cheers.  
"Why?" She asks again, and this time he hesitates before answering.  
"You need their help. We both do." There is such compassion in his eyes that Prim suddenly feels she's misjudged the boy. Maybe he is trying to help her.  
Barely knowing what she is saying, she says "Allies?"  
He looks surprised, but nods. "Allies."


End file.
